Every piece has its own story . . . that's why it's called Jewelry Tales.

Sunday, August 26, 2007

Wading In

The bottom of the lake was soft and yielding under her toes; she wiggled them and watched the water cloud up around her ankles. The lifeguard had gone back to school, the kids who had splashed and yelled all summer were gone, and she had the whole lake to herself. The water was warm and inviting where she stood; she knew it would be colder further out, it always was, no matter how hot the summer had been.

She walked forward, her hips undulating as the water swirled around her legs, the weeds and grasses caressing and releasing her thighs until she was deep enough to swim. She dived, and the cold caught her by surprise, as it always did.

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